home

search

8 - Nethersteel

  Raka dashed to the depths of the desert, leaving trails of sand snaking behind the two of them. The raging wind slammed into Zayn, turning his long hair into a disheveled, wild mess. That didn’t faze him. All he did was grin like a damned fool.

  Raka had never gone to hell for leather like this—not like the old punk could have with its dinosaur-age engine. The apocalypse changed it all. It casually gained the ability to mouth off and suddenly hurtled twice as fast as before. Perhaps faster.

  “Where are we going?” asked Zayn, despite a great risk of swallowing sand. But all he received was crickets. Strange… had it not heard him through the roaring of the wind?

  “Where are you—”

  “Stop yapping! Who questions an old machine on the run?” Raka snapped at him, its engine growling louder with each passing second, as though it was in a rush.

  Zayn shot it a deadpan stare. “Just tell me what’s going on, you prehistoric bastard!”

  Raka grumbled, pretending to have no time to speak. It wound through the sand—until a blurry, golden line slowly peeked out, brushing against the distant dunes.

  Dazed, Zayn stared, hands loosening from the handlebar. A pulsing golden sphere slowly rose from the depths of the desert, drenching the sand in a feverish, otherworldly hue. The sun tore out of the heart of the desert, signaling the end of the night.

  He exhaled, eyes faintly glassy. When had he stopped appreciating the sunrise? It had been a while since he’d seen one. To him, the earth spinning in its orbit was nothing worth clamoring about—not when his life was stuck in one place.

  Still, as he sped toward the light, his eyes drank it in greedily. He felt its warmth on his skin, the wind roaring in his ears. For the first time in forever, he was grateful to see the sun again.

  Lost in a trance, he didn’t notice Raka halting to a standstill. His attention was all caught by the pulsing sun rising in the distance, and then the small green spot that had appeared below it.

  At first, it was a round thicket, a grove, simmering with a pulsing yellow layer of light. Then the layer extended outwards—slowly ramping up speed every second; reaching him within seconds. Eyes narrowed, he watched the layer pass through—like a veil of glittering light. The air changed as it passed through him. It felt exactly like what he expected it to be: warm and full of life.

  Whatever the light touched turned green. Saplings sprung from the ground and grew into trees in a mere moment; vines and roots filled the land afterward.

  It was as if he were gazing into a time-lapse of forest formation.

  He knew that magic and monsters were regular occurrences here. Nonetheless, watching a desert transform into a forest within seconds was still mind-boggling. What kind of power would allow such a large-scale transformation?

  “Raka… you seeing th—” He turned towards Raka, words freezing in his throat. Raka was becoming increasingly incorporeal with each mote of light that passed through it—as though it were phasing into non-existence.

  A bone-chilling shock went through his spine. He could see the roots rise beyond it through its faintness; how the wind brushed the grass behind all through the gaps in its body.

  His mind refused to accept what he saw. Cautiously, he edged forward and pushed his hand out. Faintly hoping that his eyes were playing tricks. But it passed right through.

  His heart bombarded into an erratic mess.

  “We were… late,” Raka said, voice exhausted. Strained enough that speaking only made it phase away faster. Its head was turned towards the direction where the light came from. “But we got close enough. That’s where it all began. You need to—”

  “Will I see you again?” Zayn blurted out. At this very moment, he didn’t care about the dungeon, the quest objectives, or the titles. All of that came second.

  Its headlight froze in place, caught off guard by that question. Zayn felt his heart halt for a slow, agonizing second, and after what seemed like an eternity, Raka finally nodded—perhaps with a bit of force.

  “Of course. Don’t you dare die on me, or I will… drag you back from hell.”

  The words lingered long after Raka vanished. He hung in place, gaze unflinching as he stared at where Raka was just a moment ago. Unlike his exterior, a vortex of emotions razed him on the inside.

  Eventually, he took a deep breath and stepped forward.

  ***

  It was a long while before Zayn admitted he’d lost the way.

  At first, he thought he had just assumed the distance wrong. It only made sense; deserts were deceptive enough, and the forest added difficulty to his task. But after a few hours, he came to face the facts. With his current constitution and speed, he should have reached that place by now.

  Unless… he’d gotten lost.

  Staring at the damned white-barked trees, he gritted his teeth. Every single one of them looked just about the same. Add the swamps in and he could barely determine whether he was even heading in a straight line.

  “Fuck this,” cursed Zayn, moving deeper inside, still holding onto the belief that he was on the right path somehow. Not like he could go back and start over. Life didn’t allow second chances like that.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  It was unfair that Raka expected him to find a place based on a vague direction. Sure, he’d seen the grove back then, but with the trees impeding his path, he was like a headless chicken looking for a grain in a haystack. Could he blame Raka? The motorcycle didn’t seem to have many options either.

  He summoned [Nethersteel]

  Of course, the weapons he forged didn’t share the sharpness of the sword, nor did they have the hammer’s bluntness—he was missing something, or perhaps [Nethersteel]

  The metal soon shaped into chains. Chains were fine. Choking and grappling could be very fun occasionally, but that’s not the feeling he sought.

  The chains retracted and turned into a couple-meter-long stick in his palm. He rotated the stick like a part of his own body. After the last few experiments, he realized that it was surprisingly straining on his mind, particularly when he tried to extend it too far away from his body.

  One meter… two… three… four meters.

  His eyes started to strain, and he felt an intense, rising headache. No matter what he did, the stick refused to stretch any further. After a while, it burst into spuddles and retracted into his body.

  Immediately, the backlash turned into a headache of a greater intensity. The world kept spinning round and round, making his knees almost buckle to the ground, but he was better prepared this time. Scouring a white peach from his pocket, he devoured it down to its seed.

  The energy raced to his pores, soothing the soul-splitting pain soon after. But he just stayed in place for a minute or two. He really shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t play with things he didn’t know about.

  A mocking smile escaped his lips right after. He knew himself; he would do it again.

  He stood straight, heaved a deep, long breath, and started moving again.

  I can keep it up at the maximum length for four seconds now, he thought to himself. The time and length nearly doubled since the first time.

  What if he kept going? He stared at another white peach in his hand in contemplation.

  Grave Fruit (Low Astral) — Once, The Luminous Monkey tore off the immortal trees of heaven in a rage, raining celestial fruits upon the mortal lands. Their seeds still live on, warped by the passage of time.

  Effect: Rejuvenates lost health and spirit.

  A part of him wanted to keep going and stretch until he reached his limit. The more rational part shook his head, refusing the notion for a bit. He couldn’t be so reckless every single time or he might end up dead in a ditch without even knowing what killed him.

  Many of the trees contained gravefruit, making food a non-issue. Water, however, was becoming a growing issue. The bits of liquid he was getting from these fruits were far from enough; they made things worse.

  He peered at the swamps and ponds. The water in them had a calm, still aura to it. They also looked rather clear. It couldn’t be so bad, right?

  A sharp, cracking noise tore him out of his impulsive thoughts. Pieces of shards rippled way past him, missing by a long shot.

  Zayn froze, staring at a piece of broken stone debris rolling down to his feet. He knelt down to pick it up. His gaze then shifted towards the tree it had struck. It had left a deep cut in the bark before leaving. Though, from the angle of its attack, it became clear that he was not the target.

  Without a second thought, he angled his feet towards the source of noise. Ever since he had gotten his class, all he had done was pass out and get lost aimlessly. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to use his skills.

  He licked his cracked lips. A diabolical idea slowly formed inside his head. Yesterday, he had been getting sneak-attacked by the stoneheads. The world was giving him a chance today; it was turn now.

  He was going to give it the scare of its life.

  What he found, however, was far too interesting to interrupt. Amidst the pitted, white-barked trees, two stone golems faced each other, doing what Zayn could only describe as a turn-based battle.

  Stone golem Lv-11

  The smaller golem was in better shape, with all its limbs intact. It raised its stubby arm, and a fist-sized rock shard swished out of it and flew in an arc.

  Stone golem Lv-13

  Size didn’t matter; the bigger golem was the one getting bullied. Its right arm was missing everything down from the wrist, and the flying shard chipped at it again—making rubble rain down to the ground.

  On the other hand, the big golem kept missing every single one of its attacks.

  Zayn didn’t know what he expected the golems to do once they met, but he certainly hadn’t expected them to have such a life-and-death struggle. Then again, calling it a life-and-death struggle was a stretch; they were just throwing stones at each other.

  He lost interest, feeling drowsy. What a rigged fight. Neither of them seemed to be taking each other seriously. Guess he had to barge in.

  Maybe the bigger golem sensed his intention, or it finally lost its temper after getting bullied. It roared, stomped, and raised its left arm in retaliation.

  Zayn pursed his lips, halting. What could it even do? Shoot another shard?

  Swish

  It shot the entire arm out like a projectile.

  Zayn felt his jaw fall down. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry; he’d never seen rock throw hands like this. Hell, he doubted anyone ever did.

  The projectile arm pierced through the smaller golem like a hammer, leaving a gaping hole in its torso. It stared at the golem, and if this silly thing had an expression, it would surely be surprised as well. Clearly, it hadn’t expected this move either. Twitching, it fell and shattered into numerous rock fragments.

  The bigger golem grunted—as if it was acknowledging its opponent.

  Zayn walked out, proceeding with his earlier plan to sneak up on the golem. Did he feel bad about sneaking up on an injured, handless golem?

  Of course not.

  In a weird impulse, he even introduced himself, “Zayn King.”

  Instead of attacking him, the golem howled cautiously and skulked toward the remains of the smaller golem, almost as if it feared he would steal its loot. Zayn was unamused by such an accusation.

  What could he steal from that rubble?

  Still, this might as well be the smartest golem he had met thus far. The ones before shared a single brain cell across all its kind. Not a single thought, just attacking on sight—and missing the target anyway.

  He cocked his eyebrows at what it did next. The bigger golem absorbed the fallen stone debris from the defeated golem. As if a light bulb went up in his mind, everything started making sense. Is that why they were fighting? Over the mass of stones?

  Soon, a distorted mesh of writhing stones squirmed and shifted on the ground, like a mound of uncontrolled flesh.

  How grotesque.

  It made sense that golems could reform and strengthen using fragments and slivers. That’s how they were born in the first place; from the broken pieces of the Stone Ape. It was still weird to see it happen in front of his eyes. He wondered whether he should stop it—if that was even possible anymore. In the end, he let his curiosity win.

  The bigger debris and fragments were repositioned to the joints and torso, fortifying them, while the smaller splinters went to less important areas like fingers. The final addition surprised him the most.

  Stone golem — Lv 18

  Most of the cracks that had once filled its body were mended now. Its stubby limbs turned longer and barbed; their ends protruding with jagged shrapnel. It turned around, holding a jagged, oval shield that was nearly as massive as its body.

Recommended Popular Novels